


Something Good

by MyrsineMezzo



Series: Hearts Like Ours [4]
Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Post-Book 3: The Queen of Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 06:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23966926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrsineMezzo/pseuds/MyrsineMezzo
Summary: The Ghost takes Taryn to meet his friends in the Court of Shadows. But will they like her? Featuring friendship, bonding, and an embarrassed Ghost.
Relationships: Taryn Duarte/The Ghost, The Bomb/The Roach (The Folk of the Air)
Series: Hearts Like Ours [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1695043
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	Something Good

**Author's Note:**

> So here we are at fic #4 of however many I end up writing for this series. (I have about ten planned out at this point.) I love getting prompts, so feel free to leave one, and thank you for reading about my favorite non-canon Folk of the Air couple! I feel like Holly Black left this relationship wide open just for fic writers... ;)  
> And come find me on tumblr at myrsinemezzo if you want to!

Staring into her bedroom mirror, Taryn Duarte felt as nervous as a doe entering a forest glen, unsure if it would find safety or a hunter's trap. She surveyed herself in what must have been the third outfit she'd tried on in as many hours as the clock downstairs bonged its loud alarm, signaling that she had run out of time for any more changes. Ghost would be there any minute to take her to the palace. She was as prepared as she could be for this important night--important to her, anyway--where she would meet his friends in the Court of Shadows. It was only fair that she endure the same kind of outing that Ghost had endured when celebrating Thanksgiving with her family two weeks earlier, but she could only hope this evening would be slightly more relaxed than that less-than-comfortable event. 

She had arrayed herself as thoughtfully as she could since clothes had always been her own form of armor. The dress she'd finally chosen was a deep rust color that brought out the reddish tints in her hair. She had pulled her tresses back at the sides with mother-of-pearl combs, and the rest streamed down her back in thick waves, just the way she knew Ghost liked it most. A thick green cloak and a pair of leather gloves would ward against the December winds, and she donned these as well. She expected to hear Tatterfell calling for her at any moment, so she took one last look in the mirror before blowing out a breath through pursed lips. If looks counted for anything, she would be fine, but she had a feeling Ghost's comrades wouldn't be fooled by her outward appearance. Hopefully her inner qualities would be something they would embrace.

She wanted them to like her. She really did. 

Leaving her room, Taryn walked down the staircase to the main hallway. She didn't want to appear too eager, but she also didn't want Ghost to have to wait around for her, either. Fretting about how she appeared in both clothes and demeanor made her feel like a teenager from the mortal realm more than a widow and a mother. It was a strange contrast to feel so old and yet so young at the same time. Ghost unbalanced her, that was for certain, but part of her relished that feeling.

Tatterfell appeared at the doorway to the kitchens. "Ready for your evening with your young man?"

"I don't think he could quite be considered a young man, Tatterfell," Taryn laughed. She wasn't exactly sure how old Ghost was, come to think of it. He tended to be tight-lipped about his past.

"He's young in the reckoning of faeries, believe me. Even for a half-faerie."

Taryn smiled ruefully. "Then I must seem like a toddler in comparison."

"Not in the way you're thinking, but I can't help but worry for you," her old nurse said.

"I trust him. Hopefully everyone else will start trusting him, too," Taryn said firmly.

"No need to get huffy. He seems like a fine man if you can get past the spying and the murdering."

Taryn suppressed a smile at that. "Someone has to do it," she pointed out. "And I certainly don't have any stones to throw in that department."

Tatterfell clucked. "I suppose not. Well, as long as you know what you're getting into."

"I do. Or, I think I do."

"Then there's nothing more to be said," Tatterfell shrugged.

A knock at the door interrupted any further conversation. Taryn didn't want to wait for Nera or Neve to answer it, and she opened the door herself. Ghost stood on the doorstep arrayed in his usual black clothes, his sandy hair slightly windswept. His bay mare stood tethered to a post in the yard.

"My lady," he said, sketching a short bow.

Taryn couldn't keep a smile from her face at the sight of him. When he straightened, she itched to ease back a lock of his sandy hair from out of his eyes. She resisted and contented herself with resting a hand against his chest and going up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. His hazel eyes softened, as they always seemed to do around her. There was something more than attraction and friendship growing between them, she was sure of it. But now wasn't the time to think about it, and she set the idea aside.

"I'm ready to go whenever you are," she said instead. Ghost nodded, offering his arm. As she took it, she turned back to Tatterfell. "You're sure Evania will be fine?"

"I've looked after her before, and she's already sleeping. Have a nice night out," the faerie replied, making a shooing motion.

"Thank you, Tatterfell," Taryn said, turning to head out into the cold. Ghost's arm felt warm and solid against her as the wind whistled around them, blowing a light dusting of snow across the courtyard. She shivered and pulled the hood of her cloak up.

"I'll have you there as soon as we can. Mistral will get us there quickly," Ghost said, releasing her arm so he could bend to offer his cupped hands that would raise her into the saddle. She put her foot into his laced fingers then vaulted onto the mare's back. Ghost swung up a moment later, wrapping his arms around her in the way she loved.

He pressed his heels into the horse's sides, and it eased into a canter. The wind bit lightly into Taryn's nose and cheeks as the snow-covered landscape flew past. Winter never lasted long in Faerie, and she tended to enjoy it for the variety it offered. Somehow, the hills and valleys always looked pristine and lovely as opposed to the mortal realm's cities where dirty slush held sway. This was one of the many things she loved about her adopted homeland.

It wasn't long before Jude and Cardan's palace rose up before them. Ghost steered them towards a stable, its doorway glowing with lantern light. He pulled up in front of that door and slid off Mistral's back before reaching up to grip Taryn's waist, easing her down to the ground. Technically, she didn't need the help. She'd been riding horses for almost as long as she had been in Faerie, but she suspected he enjoyed feeling her in his arms as much as she enjoyed being there.

A groom appeared from out of the shadows to take the horse, but Ghost hesitated. He turned to Taryn. "I prefer to take care of Mistral myself. Do you wish to wait inside out of the cold?"

She shook her head. "I'd rather tag along with you if it's alright."

He smiled his slow smile at that. "Of course. Whatever you'd like." 

The groom took his cue to leave them alone, and Taryn walked next to Mistral's shoulder as they entered the stable. The building was warm, and it felt cozy despite housing a long row of horses, many of whom stuck their heads out over their stall doors to look at and whinny at the new arrivals.

Mistral slowed and snorted as they walked past a large, midnight-colored stallion, swishing her tail. The stallion whinnied and pawed at the ground.

"Stop flirting," Ghost said, and Taryn gave a small laugh. That was exactly what it seemed like they were doing.

"How long have you had her?" she asked when they reached the horse's empty stall.

"Mistral? Ever since she was broken about seven or eight years ago. She's nimble-footed and that comes in handy when I'm out on a job."

Taryn nodded. He didn't often speak of what he did, and she wanted to seem encouraging without pressing him to tell her about the dangerous parts of his life if he didn't want to. That was part of why she'd come this evening--to see him in his usual setting.

Ghost took off Mistral's bridle and reached for a brush to groom the mare. "Here," he said as he reached into a pocket and withdrew a few sugar cubes, handing them to Taryn. She took them and stood leaning her arms on the half-open stall door, feeding the horse the sweet treat. It felt good to spend time with this man away from her garden or the rare evening walks along the shores of Elfhame on the occasions when he could get away from the palace.

He gave the horse a pat on the shoulder as he finished, and the bay nipped gently at his shoulder in an affectionate gesture. Taryn fed her the last bit of sugar then wiped her hands to brush the last flecks away.

"I didn't think you were an animal person," Taryn said.

Ghost shrugged. "I'm not, really. I've never had a pet of any kind."

"You seem like you'd be a cat person," she said, thinking of his reflexes and taciturn nature.

He gave a small laugh. "Perhaps so. I don't think I'll ever get the chance to find out, though."

"You never know." Suddenly, the image of being curled up with Ghost on a rug next to the fire while Evania played on the floor with a kitten flew through Taryn's mind, giving her a jolt of...something. She stared at the ground, unsure of how she felt about such a domestic scene, and the thrill of longing that followed the thought made her nervous.

"Everything alright?" Ghost asked, breaking into her thoughts. When she looked up, he was frowning.

She blushed. "Yes. Just thinking of something I forgot to do at home," she lied.

His face relaxed. "Ready to meet the others?"

Taryn squared her shoulders. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"You look like you're about to face an army. Are they as intimidating as all that?"

"They're your friends," she said, feeling shy. "I want them to like me."

"They will. How could they not?" he said simply.

She nodded and took his arm once more as they entered a side door into the palace. Taryn hadn't even known it was there. Usually, she went through the main portal that led to the throne room or stuck to Jude's rooms on the rare occasions she was invited over in an informal capacity. Jude seemed to prefer coming to Taryn's estate if she wanted to visit with her twin and see her niece.

Ghost led her down a twisting corridor to stand in front of a dark wooden door. He withdrew a gold key from a different pocket within his shirt and slid it into the lock.

"I would have thought you all would be more, I don't know...hidden?" Taryn said, a questioning note in her voice.

"Well, I did blow up our lair," he said with an embarrassed, sidelong look in her direction.

"Not your fault," Taryn pointed out. She knew he was still abashed at the things he'd done when compelled first by Locke to do his bidding and then Madoc.

He simply nodded then pulled the door open to reveal a large room with a fireplace casting a cozy glow about the place. When she took in the rest of the room, she noticed the additional touches that marked it as the Court of Shadows' headquarters such as the weapons racks on the walls filled with an array of crossbows, knives, swords, and even a spear or two. A workbench ran along another wall, and Taryn guessed the jars, packets, and fuses spread across its surface was for The Bomb's benefit.

"Well, look who it is," said a cool, modulated voice. 

More than anything, she couldn't miss the large, scarred table surrounded by four chairs that took up the other end of the room. In one chair sat The Roach, and opposite him sat The Bomb, both leaning back in their seats and surveying Taryn with what looked to be chilly, calculating gazes.

"You really decided to bring _her_ here?" The Bomb asked, her expression sour.

Beside Taryn, Ghost drew himself up, his brows snapping together and his jaw clenching. Before he could say anything, the Roach slapped the table and laughed. The Bomb tilted her head back as she guffawed. 

"The look on your faces," The Roach choked out while The Bomb stood and walked over to a sideboard that held four mugs and a cask of something to drink. 

"Very funny," Ghost muttered, ushering Taryn toward the two empty seats. She eased herself into one of the chairs and took the mug The Bomb offered her, feeling a wave of relief run through her that they had only been teasing. She drank and discovered it was a crisp cider that fizzed on her tongue. Taryn tried to calm the beating of her heart as they all sipped their drinks in silence for a moment. 

The Roach cleared his throat. "So, how much do you want to know about Ghost here?" he asked, eyeing Taryn as if trying to gauge her interest.

She was delighted at the thought of hearing more about her companion. However, she wondered if this was how Heather had felt when her mother sat Vivi down and showed off all of Heather's baby pictures. The thought brought a smile to Taryn's face. These faeries were Ghost's family as much as Madoc, Jude, Vivi, and Oak and Oriana were hers.

Meanwhile, Ghost was glaring daggers at his friends. "I'm sure Taryn has no interest in hearing about my...adventures."

"Is that true?" The Bomb asked Taryn skeptically, one eyebrow raised.

"Well," Taryn said, feeling bashful but curious, "I'd love to know how the three of you met." That seemed like a safe enough request.

The Bomb and The Roach exchanged a glance, then the Roach whistled long and low. "Oh, that's a good one." 

Ghost lowered his head into his hands. "Must you?" he asked.

The Roach smirked. "For your lady here? Oh yes, we must." He continued as if Ghost hadn't said anything. "You know Prince Dain brought him here when he was just a young thing? No? Well, we came back to the old Court of Shadows one day after a mission, and there he was sitting at this very table with huge eyes like he'd never seen a real faerie except for the tall, pretty ones. He wouldn't say a word unless you asked him something point blank. And he was like a puppy whose feet were too big for him. That was Ghost: a big, mopey puppy."

Ghost groaned quietly.

"We put him through a few 'trials' just to see what he would do. Almost broke a leg after falling off one of the rafters. And the first time we set him up to duel with a redcap was a complete shitshow. You would not believe it was the same guy standing in front of you today."

"He used to try to sneak up on us. It was adorable," The Bomb said, winking at Ghost, who rolled his eyes.

The Roach looked pensive. "We were so proud the day he actually managed to catch The Bomb unawares." 

"Except for the part where he made me drop one of the projects I'd been working on," The Bomb frowned.

"The explosion would have taken out the entire Court of Shadows. Stains on the ground are all that would have been left of us if he hadn't lunged and caught it in time. Good reflexes, that Ghost."

"Thank goodness," The Bomb said dryly. 

"The only person who was more surprised than us that he'd actually done it was him," The Roach said as he pointed at Ghost. 

"You both are the worst," he muttered, taking hold of his drink as if for emotional support. 

The Roach laughed so hard he snorted into his cider when he took a sip. The Bomb started slapping his back as he struggled for air. 

“Remember that time when Ghost killed the wrong person by accident?” he asked when he finally drew a full breath.

Taryn heard Ghost groan again under his breath. "That was one time. One. Time. And I’ve never heard the end of it." He pointed at The Roach. “I specifically remember you said 'Kill the sprite in the purple hat.'"

“I said the pink hat!”

“You really, really didn’t.”

The Roach waved away Ghost’s words. “Well, anyway, Dain was so angry about it he threw a tankard at Ghost’s head and gave him a solid tongue-lashing. It left a dent in the wall. We used to touch it for good luck so we wouldn't make the same mistake." The Roach and The Bomb started laughing again.

Taryn smiled weakly in return. This tale was a little different than hearing about a young and unsure Ghost. Yes, she had murdered her own husband, but that had been under provocation. She had a feeling that listening to jokes about killing faeries was just something she'd have to take in stride if she was going to seem a worthy match for their friend. As if he could read her mind, Ghost took her hand under the table, interlacing their fingers.

"Surely we can talk about something other than death and destruction for a while?" he asked hopefully.

The Roach and The Bomb stared at him and then looked at each other and started laughing harder than ever.

Ghost sighed.

"Alright, alright," The Bomb said, wiping her eyes. "If that's what you really want."

"It is. Thank you."

"What did you have in mind if you don't want us to talk shop?" The Roach asked with his eyebrows raised.

Ghost frowned. "I don't know." He looked helplessly at Taryn.

She wracked her brain. Perhaps the members of the Court of Shadows were more inclined towards action than idle chit chat. "Well, I know Ghost destroyed your last hideout. I'd like to look around if you wouldn't mind showing me your new space."

"Of course," Ghost said, a note of relief twining its way through his voice.

"Sure, why not?" replied The Bomb, who stood and helped The Roach to his feet. Her partner was slightly unsteady after all the cider, but he seemed game to participate.

He gestured to the table they stood around. "This is all that's left of the old Court of Shadows. We were at that lair for as long as I worked for Prince Dain. Shame to see it go, but we dragged this table out of the rubble and it's still in one piece. Couldn't say the same about anything else."

The Ghost winced.

"Oh, it's not your fault. We know that," The Bomb reassured him. "And everyone who knew your name besides Jude and Cardan is either dead now or in the mortal realm, right?"

"More or less," Ghost said

Taryn kept her expression as still as she could, finishing off the last of her cider in order to hide her face at his half-truth. So they didn't know she knew his true name. When she thought about it, it did seem better to keep that fact a secret. It could be deadly for her if someone took it into their head to try to get to Ghost through her--or worse, through threatening her family. It was one of the few misgivings she had about their relationship. She couldn't help but dwell on that fact as they all wandered over to The Bomb's workbench, but she shook the feeling off as they drew near to it.

Up close, Taryn could see it was covered in fuses and powders of all different hues. "This all looks very impressive," she said. "How does it work, and how do you keep from blowing yourself up?"

"Fair question," The Bomb replied. "I know every chemical and I gathered and ground every powder myself. There's an art to the fuses as well what with the braiding and determining how quick or slow you want it to burn to make your escape. Here--one second." She grabbed a pot of black powder and a vial of red liquid, measuring a small shake of one and a drop of the other into a small paper packet. After attaching a short fuse to it, she handed the device to Taryn who held it gingerly in the palm of her hand.

"What do I do with it?" Taryn asked in as steady a voice as she could manage. The urge to drop it or toss it back to The Bomb was incredibly strong.

"I'll light the fuse, and you hold it until it's about to blow. Then, when I tell you, throw it into the air as high as you can. Ready?" she asked with no small amount of glee in her voice.

Taryn nodded nervously.

The Bomb fetched a lit taper from the fireplace and set fire to the fuse. It started burning at a startling rate.

Taryn gritted her teeth as she watched the spark drawing closer and closer to the packet. She refused to back down and hoped she wasn't about to lose a hand.

"Now," The Bomb exclaimed, and Taryn lofted the device into the air as quick and as high as she could. A moment later, it exploded with a small bang into a cascade of purple sparks that drifted down around them like glitter.

"Nice, right?" The Bomb said as the embers fell.

"It's beautiful," Taryn said, awe in her voice as she watched the last of the sparks settle to the ground and wink out.

The Bomb looked at Taryn appreciatively. "Glad you like it." She looked at The Roach. "Top that," she dared him with a smile.

"Alas, my arts are more of the scheming variety, although I hear Ghost has been teaching you to wield a dagger?" He led them over to the wall of weapons.

"She's good, too," Ghost said with a note of pride in his voice.

"You can see Jude and Cardan spared no expense on our equipment," The Roach said, pointing to the swords, daggers, and cords that must have been garrotes for choking their enemies. "Well...Jude spared no expense, anyway. Cardan just kind of lets us do whatever we want down here."

He reached up and plucked a long, slim dagger from the wall. It was thicker than a misericord and thinner than a hunting blade. "Has he showed you how to throw these yet?"

"Ooh! Knife-throwing contest," The Bomb exclaimed.

"You don't have to," Ghost said quickly, turning to Taryn with a startled expression.

Taryn shook her head. "I'm game to learn." She decided she might end up looking like a fool, but she was willing to try it to prove she was just as suited to parts of this life as her twin. It might convince his friends that she was a suitable match for Ghost, and even more than that it would be extremely gratifying to surprise Jude by showing off a new skill.

"Excellent," The Roach said, rubbing his hands together. "Targets will be over there." He pulled a few dummies away from the wall on the far side of the weapons rack and spaced them out a good distance away from where Taryn and Ghost stood.

"I'll go against The Ghost, and you can go up against The Bomb," he told her.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Ghost asked, looking down into Taryn's eyes as if to check whether she was just putting on a brave face or not.

"I really do," she insisted. She smiled up at him. "Are you going to show me how to throw them or not?"

He nodded, handing her one of the knives. When she reached to take it from him, he shook his head. "Take it like your shaking someone's hand and hold the flat of the blade between your thumb and forefinger." He demonstrated.

"Alright," she said, taking it from him and holding it carefully. "What next?"

"Now, move your feet apart." He nudged her front heel with the edge of his foot. "A little wider..."

She obeyed, then lifted her arm to throw it. 

Ghost stopped her. "One last thing. Let the knife slide out of your hand. Do not grip it tight," he said firmly.

Taryn nodded. "Anything else?" she asked, an edge starting to creep into her voice. What had she gotten herself into?

He smiled reassuringly. "Just aim for where you want to hit the target and keep your wrist locked."

His directions whirled through her mind. "Aim...lock...slide...throw..." She drew a breath and let it out before flinging the knife toward the target's chest. It sailed a little wide, but not by much, landing with a clatter.

"Not bad," The Bomb called from over against the wall where she was waiting her turn.

"Here," Ghost said. He moved so that he was at her back, holding her body against his. His arm out stretched alongside hers. "Just keep your eye on where you want to hit it."

His voice was low, and his breath tickled warm against her ear as he talked. She did her best not to shiver at his nearness. "I think I've got it," she said a little breathlessly.

The Bomb whistled. "Nice moves, Ghost, but are we going to throw knives or watch you flirt?"

To Taryn's surprise, Ghost blushed at her words. "Yes. Um. I think you do have it," he said hastily, stepping back. 

Taryn tried not to laugh, not wanting to embarrass him further. Instead, she turned and took aim once more. As she threw, she kept her eyes on the target, and the knife buried itself in the target's left shoulder.

"Yes!" she cried, jumping up and down.

Ghost gave her one of his rare grins and went to retrieve the knives. She felt warm and happy, relaxed in a way she hadn't expected. The contest between herself and The Bomb was a short one. The Bomb won easily, but it was even more fun to stand with her against the wall and share another mug of cider while calling out encouragement or heckling The Ghost and The Roach, who seemed to be taking their match much more seriously.

When The Roach caught the red bullseye on the dummy's chest on his final throw, he let out a shout of triumph. "It was a good game, Ghost," he said.

In response, Ghost threw his last knife with easy grace. It plunged straight through the middle of the dummy's forehead with a soft "thunk."

"Fine. We'll call it a tie," The Roach grumbled. 

Ghost smirked, and they all returned to the table to finish their drinks and swap a few more tales. It wasn't long, though, before Ghost set down his mug and said, "It's getting late." He turned to Taryn. "Do you want to come with me to get something from my room before I take you home? Or would you rather stay here?"

"I'll come with you," she said, blushing a little when The Bomb and The Roach exchanged surreptitious smiles. It was a little embarrassing that they knew what the two were probably going to get up to, but she wasn't about to pass up the opportunity to get an inside peek into what Ghost's life was like.

"Thank you for having me," she said warmly to his friends as they stood up.

"Anytime," The Roach said, moving to her side and bowing over her hand.

"Seriously," The Bomb agreed. "I could show you some fun things with timers next time. Think about it."

"I will," Taryn promised. 

The Roach opened the door for Taryn to walk through, and as she did so, she heard a muffled "She's a keeper," coming from The Bomb who was walking a little ways behind with Ghost.

A smile flitted over Taryn's lips, and she felt the cider fizz through her veins merrily. She was so happy. They liked her! Not that it should have mattered, but it _did_ matter to her very much.

Ghost shut the door behind them, and she followed him down a hallway that twisted and turned. She hoped they didn't run into any servants or courtiers on their way to his room since she didn't want this visit to be fodder for speculation or conniving on the part of the court. Ghost must have been on the same page, because he halted suddenly just before a bend in the corridor and held her back with his arm. Lifting a finger to his lips, his eyes held a hint of merriment as she heard a pair of faeries walking to what must have been a nearby room. The two were talking about something related to finance and the treasury, and when she heard a door open and their voices trail away, she breathed a sigh of relief.

"Almost there," Ghost said, taking her hand in his and leading her down one last corridor. He moved like a shadow, and she attempted to do the same in her soft slippers. They arrived at a door that looked like any other door except that there was a complicated lock that required two keys to open.

"Worried someone will get in?" Taryn asked.

Ghost gave her a small smile as he turned the second key. "Better safe than sorry."

She nodded, and followed him inside. The room was dark, and he let go of her hand, leaving her alone for a moment. She heard the sound of a flint striking, and the soft glow of a lantern lit the room.

Taryn looked around. To her eyes, it was shockingly bare. There was a bed, a washstand with a small mirror, and a trunk along one wall, and that was it.

"It's...cozy," she said carefully.

Ghost snorted. "It's awful. But I don't have need of very many possessions. It's best if I keep things light."

"Don't want to be tied down?" she asked as she ran a finger along the washstand, surprised to find a wooden dish with a woman's ring sitting inside it next to the mirror.

"More that it's best if I don't get too comfortable with this life. I don't want to become careless and slow."

Taryn quirked an eyebrow. "That doesn't really make much sense. There's nothing wrong with enjoying things while you can. You only live once."

Ghost shrugged. "It is what it is."

He noticed her eyeing the ring. It had a pearl set in a simple band, and Taryn wondered what it meant to him to keep this one thing so prominently displayed. By putting it on the washstand, he would always see it rather than have it be hidden in his trunk.

"It was my mother's," he said, walking up to stand beside her to look down at it. "And it was the only thing I brought with me from the mortal realm."

"It's lovely," Taryn offered.

Ghost gave her a smile tinged with sadness. "It was always passed down among the women of her family. She brought it all the way from Scotland to New York where we lived when I was a child. She only had me before she died, though, and...well," he trailed off.

Taryn was momentarily stunned. Moments when he shared his past were so rare. She realized that at some point she had gained his trust or he would have never allowed her to see these parts of him.

"So you came to Faerie," she said.

He nodded. "Prince Dain found me, and you heard the rest from The Bomb and The Roach."

"It must have been very hard to leave everything you'd known behind."

Ghost shook his head. "There was nothing for me there." He gave a small laugh then, "My life here has been many things here, but it has never been boring."

Taryn smiled at that. "Well, for my part, I'm glad you're here."

He met her eyes and the distance between them seemed to melt and disappear on its own. The next moment, they were in each other's arms, and what began as a slow, drugging kiss began to give way to something more needy. She let him lead her towards his bed, and they sank down onto it. But when she went to lay her head on the pillow, she felt something hard smack against the back of her head.

"Ouch," she said, raising herself up and rubbing at the spot. "What on earth was that?"

Ghost's cheeks went a little red, and he reached under the pillow and drew out a large dagger. "Just in case," he said.

Taryn couldn't help but fall back against the pillow and laugh at his abashed expression. "You mean, just in case someone makes it through the multiple locks on your door and past you?"

"I might be sleeping," he protested. "I do have to sleep sometimes."

"That's true," Taryn said before leaning her head against his shoulder as he settled next to her with his head on the pillow beside hers.

"I have thought about you many times as I lay here at night," he said quietly.

"And what did you think about?" she asked, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Nothing good," he said with a low laugh.

Taryn felt a sly grin cross her face. "Let's see what I can do to live up to those expectations," she said, and before he could respond, she rolled over to sit astride him. 

Ghost sucked in a quick breath, his pupils going wide with what could only be arousal. It was incredibly satisfying to have this effect on him, like he could never even think of growing tired of her as her husband had. No, she had the feeling Ghost would look at her like that for the rest of her life if she let him. 

And that terrified her as much as it thrilled her. But there would be time to think of such things later, when she wasn't in her lover's bed. As they began to lose themselves in each other, she felt something blossoming between them even stronger than what had been there before. It wasn't love. Not yet. But it was something very, very close. She closed her eyes and kissed him with the full force of that feeling, hoping to make him see just how much he meant to her--how much this night had meant to her. And as he returned her kiss with equal ardor, she felt beautiful and adored as only this man could make her feel. Her worries and cares slid away just as her gown did moments later, then they were adrift on a sea of pleasure and longing that only the two of them together could satisfy.


End file.
